The TrogWarrior
by LoremIpsum
Summary: The land of Peasentry is under threat of burnination, unless Trogdor finds himself a worthy opponent. Pretty Dashing rises to the challange. Reviews are loved and cherised so REVIEW! (please).
1. Prologue

The knight raised his Trog-Sword to the heavens as lightning forked though the sky. Now was the time. Years of training, blood, sweat and tears led to this moment. The knight's horse shifted nervously and wondered why he was here. He could be sleeping in the stable but nooo. His owner had dragged him up here to battle the Burninator, which was an obviously futile task. The horse blinked in sudden confusion. How did he get up the treacherous vertical cliff anyway?

He pondered on how he could have possibly defied the laws of gravity and physics to get to the top. The knight suddenly urged his horse into a mad gallop toward the entrance of the gaping cave. He uttered a battle cry.

"Will thou face me thy evil-doer of evil?" he cried out in his knightish dialect. The voice carried into the heart of the cave where Trogdor was in a deep slumber. The sound of the knight's voice was like a fly buzzing around someone's ear. The Wingalinged One stirred out of his sleep. A great midnight black eye opened...then another.

"Knights..." he mumbled shaking off his sleepiness. "Archers...Peasants...they're all the same." He stood up which was a very awe-inspiring thing to see. Or just a terror inspiring thing to see. His footsteps rang over the valley as he headed toward the entrance of the cave. The great green head turned lazily downward to see a speck that was a knight on his horse.

It would be fun frying them to a crisp. At least it wasn't a total lost. Trogdor didn't eat his victims. He was allergic to humans, so he became a vegetarian.

"What do you want mortal?" he grumbled, his mighty voice rolling over the countryside. The irrational knight's reply sounded like a squeak.

"I have come in the name of the Peasant Kingdom of Peasantry! I shall smote thee with thine Trog-Sword! Then thou pestilence shalt not reign upon thy land! Thee that made thy land tremble with thine burnination, thou shalt be fallen at mine own hand..."

Trogdor rubbed his now aching head angrily. All the thous and thys where making his head hurt. He usually allowed his challengers to say their piece but he made an exception with knights. He settled his beefy arm into a more comfortable position. This should be entertaining.

"Tell me knight," he began cutting off the knight's ramblings. 'Why do always talk about HOW you're going to kill me instead of actually DOING it?"

Before the knight could answer Trogdor took a deep breath; and in an instant the knight and his trusty steed where lain to burnination.

"Nice talking to ya." Trogdor mumbled before retreating back into his lair. He picked up a stick and made another tally for that week.

Knights: 34

Archers: 67

Peasants: 137

Then he sighed, sending out enough fire to burn down a whole forest. These challengers where beginning to bore him. And when he's bored we're talking some major destruction here. Each one was the same as the last one. Shouting their lives story at him then getting burninated. Rather Dashing had been the one who had gotten the furthest. But he ended up like so many of the other ones. Foolish peasant. He wasn't a second thought. Trogdor glanced out to the pitiful city of Peasantry.

Wasn't there anyone who could prove themselves as a worthy opponent? Otherwise he would heat things up around here. Really heat things up.

A/N- Yeah, so I decided to stop drooling over everyone else's HSR fanfics and actually make my own! (crowd gasps in horror) Puh-lease review!!


	2. The Annual Kerrek March

Pretty Dashing watched the assembled men in the town square. They where armed with pitchforks, torches, chainsaws and other various crude weapons. The full moon reflecting off them made the weaponry seem twice as lethal. Among the peasants Pretty could spot her five brothers and father. One tough looking peasant jumped on top of a burnt stump.

"Brother peasants! Now is the Kerrek's time!"

"HUZZAH!" the men shouted back enthusiastically.

"Now is the time for us peasants to make the Kerrek's time!"

"HUZZAH!" cried the men for a second time.

"Now is the time for us peasants to make time, to make the time now for the Kerrek!"

There was awkward silence and the sound of crickets chirping in the distance. The man looked around then quickly yelled, "KILL THE KERREK!" The villagers answered in a roar of approval and raised their weapons into the air. Then, as they began marching away, they broke into the Kerrek hunting song, which is sung to the tune of "Row, Row, Row, Your Boat". Feel free to sing along.

"Kill, kill, kill the Kerrek,

All the livelong day,

Thrash him and bash and clash him and mash him,

That's the Peasantry way!"

Pretty scowled angrily as she watched the men disappear over the rim of a hill, her pigtails bobbed up and down as she hopped in annoyance. Pretty looked younger then her age. She was twelve but looked about nine. Her black hair was pulled away from her freckled covered face by pigtails. She turned to her mother who was waving after them with a handkerchief. "Mom, I never get to go on the Annual Kerrek Killing March," she complained. "It's no fair! The girls in this town don't get to do anything!"

Her mother, Patsy Rather, lowered her handkerchief in irritation. Every year she had to go through this speech with her daughter and apparently this year was no exception. Patsy spoke in a manner that made one think of someone reading a well-rehearsed story.

"Fighting is something little girls shouldn't be doing! Leave those jobs to the males. We get to stay home and cook and clean and sew—"

"I don't WANT to do those things," Pretty pouted her eyes brimming over. Patsy glanced around warily at the other peasant mothers who where looking toward them curiously. She was known for having the daughter who was obnoxious and "not a all like a lady". Patsy didn't want Pretty to make a scene.

Patsy lowered her voice. "It's just not what a lady-type does, Pretty. And what if you did become a knight? Think about our families reputation!" Pretty let her scowl deepen to a grimace. "Well I think Peasantry would be happy to have as many warriors as they can get! All the Kerreks and Jhonkas and burnination are too much for a kingdom like this."

Patsy winced. She hated when her daughter used logic. Most of the Peasantry women weren't that logical. Then again neither were the men. And it hurt Patsy's head to try and answer her daughter logically. So instead she answered, "Go inside and start boiling the chicken feed."

"But the guys just left!" whined Pretty.

"So they'll be back in an hour and a half. I don't want any more of your back talking young lady." Patsy answered with finality before walking off to talk to the neighbors.

Pretty stood alone in the middle of the town square for a moment. Then she sniffed disdainfully and turned in the opposite direction of her thatched-roof cottage. She needed time to formulate her plan. And she needed advice.

The moon was high overhead when Pretty finally reached the statue. It was old and crumbled but stood proudly over the land of Peasantry. The statue itself was a young man with short pants and a "Scalding Lake" t-shirt. His hands where placed on his hips with confidence. Pretty wished she could have some of that confidence. There was a placard under him, which read, "The Peasant Kingdom of Peasantry will forever honor Rather Dashing for coming the closest to defeating the Burninator."

Pretty sighed and sat in front of the memoriam of her ancestor. It brought back memories when she was in Peasant Grade School and would brag of her heritage. She felt a flashback coming on.

The other Peasant children were very jealous. Then one day a boy named Naldo pointed out something she never though of before.  
"You know Rather Dashing's whole family was burninated. If you even _are_ related you would probably only be his second cousin's twice removed, cousin's, distant relative's great, great, great granddaughter" Whereupon Pretty smashed in his nose, and she ran home crying hysterically.

Her mother had whirled on her father saying, "I knew this was going to happen one day! You should have just told her!" and stomped out of the room. Her father was the only source of comfort offered to her. Pretty can still remember sitting in his lap and his words as clearly as it was yesterday. "So what if you're not really blood related with Rather Dashing. Who cares? What matters is that you follow your dreams."

Sure it was very cliché and not relating to what they where talking about. But that little talk helped Pretty understand one thing. She wanted to become a knight. That was why her mother blamed the way Pretty turned out on her father.

Pretty blinked out of the memory. She was gazing at Rather Dashing's face as if waiting for him to say something.

"Well Rather, I don't really know what to do. I mean I want to become a knight and everything, but nobody will listen to me except you and Dad. What should I do?" The only sound was the chirping of crickets.

"Get a drink? That's a good idea. I know somebody that might help. I'll head over to the tavern."

She saluted her hero and walked in the direction of the tavern. She reached her destination about fifteen minutes later. It was an old yellow building that was worn down under the elements. A rickety sign hung down from the door way reading: "Ye Olde Tavern". It used to be an inn when Rather Dashing was alive.

Pretty checked her Pes-Watch. It was 9:23. She had about an hour before her mom would freak and the boys would return home.

Pushing the unstable door open she headed into the tavern.

A/N: I know it wasn't that exiting but it will be later on :) I was trying to develop Pretty Dashing's character a little more. I love reviews by the way.


	3. Ye Olde Tavern

Pretty maneuvered her way into the Ye Olde Tavern. The people there mostly consisted of old men who where unfit to go on the Kerrek March. They looked up at her for a moment then returned to their business. A few people muttered hellos to Pretty as she passed. She reached the bar counter and the bartender came up to her cheerfully.

"Hi Ned" she greeted her friend. Ned had a merry look about him. His ruddy complexion was almost always smiling. Sometimes it was kind of annoying.

"Pretty, how is my favorite customer?" he asked jovially. Pretty grimaced. "Can I have like, a pint of orange juice or something first? Then I'll tell you."

"You know, you can get serious citric acid poisoning from too much of the stuff," he said cautioned. Pretty shrugged. "I don't really care." In a few minutes he was back with a mug of orange juice.

"Now tell me, what's wrong," he asked. Before she could respond he held up a hand. "Wait! Let me guess. You want to become a knight but the gender rolls in this town will not allow it."

Pretty grinned at Ned. "You always get it right. I wonder why?" she added sarcastically. Even though he was sixteen years older then her, Ned was Pretty's best friend. She always would come to the tavern and complain about that day's problems. He acted as a kind of a shrink to her.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" asked Ned, not dismissively, but as a genuine question.

"Well to tell you the truth, I…" she cast a wary glance around. "I was thinking that maybe…an old experienced warrior could teach me. You know, I could become his Squire and stuff just like in those old stories." She took a sip of her orange juice.

"I know someone you can ask," Ned said mildly. Pretty's interest shot up. "You're kidding right?" she said. Ned shook his head still grinning. Pretty hopped up and down on her seat in impatience. "Okay then, out with it! Who is it?"

"It…" Ned began. Pretty leaned forward. "Is…" Pretty gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. Ned suddenly has a coughing fit. Pretty banged the bar in frustration sending some mugs flying in the air and landing on peoples heads. Ned cleared his throat and looked at her. "I have decided not to tell."

Pretty launched herself at him. "TELLL MEE!!" she shrieked. The rest of the men in the pub looked up, rolled their eyes, and continued talking.

Meanwhile Pretty was trying to get Ned into a headlock.

"Okay, _okay! _Geez." Pretty let go of Ned who rubbed his neck. "You have to promise not to be angry."

"Promise" said Pretty impatiently.

"And not to scream."

"…Promise."

"And not to-"

"JUST TELL ME ALREADY!"

"Okay then, I'll tell you." Ned said sighing deeply. "Finally," Pretty muttered taking a sip of her orange juice. "It's me," said Ned. There was a pause. Suddenly Pretty spat her orange juice all over Ned. "Y-you're what?!" she almost screamed.

"Shhh, keep it down!" Ned hissed, motioning frantically.

"Well _excuse me _for being surprised that my best friend is a WARRIOR and never told me!" Pretty snapped, wiping her face. "Well I am. I am skilled in swordplay, ju-jitsu and kickboxing but mostly wizardry." Ned said counting off on his fingers.

"Okayyyy…then where did you learn how to do all this stuff?" Pretty asked skeptically, wondering if her friend was pulling her leg. Ned smiled a secret smile.

"From the Three Keepers of Trogdor."

Pretty spat out her juice again, spraying Ned in the sticky substance. "Can you _please _stop drinking orange juice while I'm telling life-altering experiences." Ned said a little irritably.

"Woahwoahwoahwoahwoahwoah! I've been your friend for, what, three years? And you've never told me this! I'm hurt Ned" she added giving a little scowl. Ned got a slightly guilty look. "You've got to understand that the peasants of Peasantry wouldn't look upon me in the same way if they knew I was adopted by the Keepers."

"ADOPTED!?" Pretty shouted who was beginning to feel like an echo.

"Yes Pretty, can you please stop shouting in my ear? Anyways, I was raised by them. They taught me all their secrets and looked upon me like a son. Then when I was old enough they released me to Peasantry where I took up a job as a humble bartender." Pretty thought for a bit. This was all very weird. Pretty was used to weird stuff but not this weird. "Wait, wouldn't the Keepers be angry at you if you taught be how to defeat Trogdor?"

"Uhh no not really, they're just in it for the money. They don't really like Trogdor that much. You know with all the burnination and everything. If your really curious you can ask them yourselves if you want."

"WHAT?! Don't be stupid. Wait. How?" Pretty asked, doing a double take.

"They should be stopping by here soon" said Ned checking his Pez-Watch.

"What?" Pretty asked faintly.

"Yup. They said Trogdor has a message for the peasants. They're stopping by here to deliver it."  
"When-how-jgth-wgth?!" Pretty asked intelligently.

"They should be coming right about-"

Suddenly a tremendous explosion shook the village. Screams and sounds of chaos came from the center of Peasantry. Everyone in the tavern began running for the door in a panic.

"-Now." Ned finished. He turned to Pretty but she wasn't there. She was already running as fast as she could to the center of town.

A/N: So how was it? Not that exciting. Ned will have a bigger part then I origanally attended. Hmmm...this is kind of an experiment for me. I know the basic plot but not the little deatails. I'll figure those out when I write them. coughhopefullycough Pwease R&R? Pwease cute look Puss in Boots gives in Shrek 2


	4. A Visit From the Keepers

Pretty skidded to an abrupt halt. A crowd had gathered around the center of the town. With a quick look around Pretty spotted her father and brothers who apparently returned from the Kerrek March. She ran over to them clutching a stitch in her side.

"W-what's going on?" she panted. Her father pointed with worry in his eyes.

Pretty followed his gesture and noticed something for the first time. A giant cloud of dust had formed during the explosion. But that wasn't the cause for concern. Within the cloud came muffled shouts. The crowd backed up.

Suddenly three figures stumbled out. They where all dressed in turquoise robes that where now brown with dirt. Their faces where mostly covered by hoods.

"Nice going Mike! 'Oh, we'll use the Floo Powder, you say! A fat lot of good that did!" shouted one.

"Well _some _people need to work on their entrances _Matt! _Now look at my beautiful robe! This is gonna cost a fortune!" retorted another. The third one stepped between them and held out his hands. "Both of you settle down. We must work together to accomplish this goal," he said calmly. "Who asked you, Jonathan." Mike and Matt said glumly.

"Well before you two fight anymore we need to find if we are in the right…" Jonathan's voice trailed off as he looked around at the gawking peasants.

"Oh."

The three of them straightened up and suddenly took on a very professional and serious quality.

"Greetings, Peasants of the Kingdom of Peasantry." Mike said mysteriously.

"We bring news from the Burninator" continued Matt. The peasants murmured in fear and astonishment. Matt held up his hand for silence. "Trogdor is becoming bored. Yes, bored. Even rampaging dragons become bored after a while. And it is dangerous for you folks if he becomes bored…"

"Apathetic" added Mike

"Fed up" suggested Jonathan.

"…Right. All of those things" continued Matt. "He wants an opponent who can prove worthy to stand against him." There were shocked outcries amongst the peasants.

"So this Kingdom of Peasantry will hold a tournament. Whoever wins will challenge Trogdor." Matt finished. The other two Keepers looked at him with disgust. "You call that delivering a suspenseful speech? It sounded like you where reciting a Karaoke competition." Mike said crossly.

"Hey shut your gob Mike."

"You should have let me talk."

"You should have covered your head in a paper bag."

"What kind of come back was that?!"

"I'll show you come back!"

"Guys! GUYS!" Jonathan shouted, attempting to break up the squabble.

Meanwhile the peasants quiet muttering became a full-throated roar. Everyone was arguing in shock and panic as the message from the Burninator registered in their minds. Pretty was the only person who remained silent. She pushed her way through the crowd to where the Keepers stood. They where still fighting amongst themselves.

"Mike NO spells! That's playing dirty!" Matt shouted ducking a purple blast that came from Mike's hands. Jonathan had given up trying to stop the fight and was now standing with a hand over his face. Pretty stepped up to him and tentatively tugged his sleeve.

"Excuse me sir?" she asked. Jonathan looked at her, although she couldn't be sure because his hood shrouded his face.

"Yes peasant? What is it?" he said wearily. Pretty felt her heart thudding in nervousness but remained where she was.

"I was wondering…that is to say…well…can I enter the competition?" she inquired softly. Jonathan seemed to look at her with new interest. He remained silent for a moment then answered. "I'm not going to say "no" like any other adult would do. It is a wise choice but not the best one," he said mysteriously.

Pretty raised an eyebrow. "So…is that a yes?" she asked. Jonathan was slightly disappointed she didn't listen to his sagely advice, but nodded. Pretty continued, "See I'm friends with Ned and he agreed to train me…"

"Ned! Where is he? I must say hello to him!" Jonathan cried. "Right here Jonathan" said Ned who was suddenly standing behind Pretty. The other two Keepers stopped quarreling.

"It's so great to see you Ned!" said Matt who was turned into a newt by Mike. Ned bent down and picked him up. "Are you guys fighting again? You never change." Ned sighed.

Mike muttered something that sounded like "he started it."

"I heard that!" Matt shouted from Ned's hand. Jonathan embraced Ned like an old friend. "How are you, my boy?" he asked.

"As good as it can get for a peasant living in a town that's always under threat of burnination." Said Ned truthfully. Pretty didn't want to be rude but she was growing impatient. "Ned, you said you would help me enter the competition," she reminded him.

"I did?" Nat said, confused. She glared at him. "OHHHH yeah, I did. Ummm…." Jonathan suddenly yanked him by the collar of his shirt and turned to Pretty. "If you'll excuse us for a minute." Pretty shrugged and watched Jonathan drag Ned into the crowd.

"Please pardon my French, what in the schnikies where you _thinking?_" shouted Jonathan angrily to Ned. He winced but answered in a calm voice. "She's the one who can save us."

"But what if she's not?" Jonathan said quietly. "Ned, I admire the faith you have in her but if you're wrong you'll be giving the girl a one way ticket to burnination."

"I _know _that already! I've thought and thought about it! But I just _know _she's the one!" Ned said in exasperation.

"Well there's only one way to find out," said Jon.

"Pull a sword from a stone?" suggested Ned.

"No, don't be stupid. Anyone can do that. She needs to…" He looked around and motioned Ned closer. " Make Trogdor a pizza."

"Uhh…come again?"

"Look, we all know Trogdor is a vegetarian. His favorite dish is pizza. But whenever Mike, Matt or myself deliver him a pizza it's 'to crusty' or 'needs more grease'. According to the prophecy …"

"There's a prophecy pizza? Since when was there a prophecy about pizza?!" Ned cried incredulously.

The Keeper continued, totally ignoring him. "It says that whoever can make the perfect pizza for Trogdor is the one who can save Peasantry."

Jonathan's Pez-Watch suddenly started beeping. "Ah, we need to wrap this up." He walked back to Mike and Matt and turned to the crowd. Matt had turned back into a human and was brushing himself off with dignity. He held up a hand for silence from the crowdwhich hegot almost immediately. "Citizens of Peasantry. Our time grows short! We will be back on the day of the competition. May the uh, most wrangling person win!"

Jonathan and Mike rolled their eyes.

Suddenly the three Keepers disappeared in a puff of green smoke making everyone cough and splutter. Finally when the smoke cleared they where nowhere to be seen.

Ned turned to Pretty and clapped his hands together. "So...do you know how to make a pizza?"

Continued in Chapter 5

Notes: Mike Matt and Jonathan are in NO WAY supposed to be the real people. I thought it would be funny to use their names. Also, sorry about the big update gap. I will try to update faster next time. Don't worry! Action and Adventure soon! And also I lovey the reviewy.


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